


Corruption and an Offered Hand

by Compiledwhispers



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 16:13:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13708017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Compiledwhispers/pseuds/Compiledwhispers
Summary: !!Billford!!The stone cracks, blood drips down and an outstretched hand reaches with fire. Reality is going off the rails.





	1. Cracked Beginning

Disclaimer: So, I’m nervous first and foremost to write any sort of fanfic but I’m giving it a go! If people end up liking the first chapter, I think I’ll continue it… I might just continue it anyways if I get enough motivation haha. Anyways, this story will contain triggers such as PTSD, flashbacks, trauma, angst, blood, etc.

This is a Gravity Falls Fanfic!

## PROLOGUE

It was funny, nearly ironic really how things had turned out- as his body shifts painfully through alterations of form, glitched and unstable. Breath, if he had it would be panicked in quick bursts as his body collapsed again and again before stalling with his hand reached out; Claws ready. “STAAAANNNLLLEEEY!!” Shifting forcibly to move forward, the next wave of pain was the final nail in his coffin as he screeched out with gurgled agony. Black surfaces over his vision… It was funny. Really, it was to have such an end to his life as he knew it then. Particles fade within the rising flames of hinted blue; mind dulling out to a mindless static as he vanishes. Time was irrelevant within this numbed torture of vacant existence. How long had it been as he slowly reformed? How much time had passed as he pieced himself back together- static and fragmented memories shuffled carelessly together to form his body once more?

How much time had passed…?

Bill could vaguely begin to recall what had happened, the spell he had chanted out in a desperate attempt to free himself and yet it seemed only to leave him trapped once more? His eye finally focuses within the murk of darkness he is in, widening as he saw before him; Ford. Stanford Filbrick Pines! Ohohoho! Now isn’t this interesting? But why is the other acting as if he isn’t there? A momentary blip in his existence makes him heave out a groan of annoyance as he glances around to survey his newfound surroundings. This is someone’s mind? Memories cascade over as every clip he could snatch is pulled up as if it is a mere database for his claws to sink into. Stan is his current prison, not that it is much of one but things didn’t appear as easy as this. If he is merely resting in the mind of this meathead, he’d be able to slip out no problem; so why couldn’t he? None of it made sense before he feels the pull of static draws him in once more, sinking away to a numb slumber. He could only do so much it seemed. Before he fades to his forced slumber, he plans. If he could gain enough of himself within this black existence, he could influence the man’s mind.

He would come back.

## ===========CHAPTER ONE==========

It begins slowly as dusk seeps across the forest floor; a graveled yawn oozing past Stan’s lips as he scratches with mild boredom against his stomach. It has been nearly 4 years since Bill’s defeat, the pointy bastard merely an annoyance In the back of his mind- a faulty bad dream playing on repeat as Stan tries to move forward from that horrid week. Of course, Ford is stuck to him like glue, pondering on how to help him when his memories lapse back and he forgets his name again. They have even put together a video containing key people in his life and even written reports of his earlier memories on the road as a fugitive. Everything really that could be strung together for the man to remember. It never really is enough though, he still has lapses and whispering trails of a voice he would rather soon forget than his own name. The cool night air whips him out of his thoughts as he gives another huff before trudging his way back into the shack. He isn’t the owner of the store anymore, he gave Soos that lovely pain in the neck but time to time Ford and him seem to always wind right back up in Gravity Falls. He just couldn’t shake the damn chill of his mind and the wind off even as he kicks off his shoes and slips those fuzzy slippers on his aching buns.

“M'fine.” He doesn’t bother to look like he already could practically hear the worry on his brother’s own mind.

“You were out there for hours you realize… I think you should at least get something warm to drink.” A retort would be given as he plops in his recliner even as his brother steps closer.

“What are ya, ma? I said m'fine and I mean it. Can’t a man enjoy a few hours on the porch without his nerdy brother worrying about his every move?”

“Stanley that isn’t”

“Look, it’s alright. I didn’t lapse or whatever ya call it. M'fine, really so quit actin like a mother hen and get your butt in the living room. Our shows comin on.”

Ford would have fought this more if he didn’t know his brother like he did. So instead, he sits down in the recliner they put in place of the skull. The show is something revolving around the life of a woman duchess, and her struggles as a woman. Admittedly? He didn’t enjoy it but Stan seems to as he gives a sound of annoyance as a commercial about skater skates with new blue-tooth features kicks on. Blue-tooth, he is still getting used to the fact that technology is so easily accessible these days. His thoughts cut short as Stan barks out in anger.

“Oh no, you don’t Count Deflorian! You had your chance just like the rest of those suckers!” Ford couldn’t help but offer a small chuckle as a smile creeps on his worn face. The show eventually shifts from actually showing their show to boring, drawn-out advertisements before Ford notices how Stan has fallen asleep. Standing up as he fetches the blanket from the chair, he drapes it over him and sighs; Stanley is not okay regardless how he thinks he is. Shifting to head down past the vending machine and into the basement floors, Ford makes the decision to work another tireless night on the second floor. What had once been a shrine for Bill has been torn down and put away; Cleaned and prepped for proper study. His studies across the multiverse had led to many findings and he had learned how to prevent Bill from entering in the past. Now, that shouldn’t be on his mind of course, but it is all he can think about when Stan has a blank moment or falls asleep.

The deep seeding of worry and fear festers as the years play out, even going so far as to check Stan’s eyes for slits at one point or another which it responds with a punch in the face. He couldn’t blame his brother, but having a broken nose over checking his eyes seems a bit much. Never the less, he couldn’t help his own ticks of nervous tension. Especially with the approaching summer as the kids return to visit just like last summer.

Hopefully, the kids were fine with coming back. That is another worry all in of itself. It has only been a few years, after all, Mabel has taken it pretty well despite even being at death’s door in Bill’s grasp. Dipper, however… He is a different case. While she even jokes about it to lighten the mood, Dipper did all he can to try and rationalize it and figure out if there had been a different way they could have gone about things. A determined lad really.

As he approaches the desks and stacks of paperwork, he nearly flops in his seat as he pulls out a recent folder titled ‘Stanley’.

This has everything he cataloged these four years as the other shifts from knowing his past to lacking even his own name. It is a mess, disorderly and he could only sigh in frustration due to his own stress over it all. This is his fault after all if he never met Bill… Well, he couldn’t say he regrets meeting him actually. No, that would be a lie to make himself feel better over the betrayal. What he should have done is listen to Fiddleford. Again, another lie, he knows he is stubborn even back then and yet his mind loves to try and go through every option he could have done only to fall short.

Always falling short.

Hitting his hand on the desk brings a sting to his hand that jerks him out of his thoughts. Surely there is a way to fix it easier isn’t there? With every bit of weirdness in the world, the show of magic that seems to breathe in every fiber of this reality has answers for everything except for the one problem he wants to fix. As he dwells over the recent recordings and entries of their first moments to New Jersey, above ground level Stan stirs awake with a yawn. “Ford? Bah, leave it to the nerd to go off and work on somethin and leave me sleeping in a chair.”

He heaves out a breath as he stretches and kicks the chair’s leg rest back in as he stands. Some nights he does this. Stan feels so tired that he merely falls out but at this moment; He feels a static of energy coursing through him. Getting his shoes back on, he heads out the door with a coat lingering around his shoulders as he pulls it from the rack. This is going to be one of the nights where he is prone to be outside despite the nightly chill in the air. He cares less really, years of living in a car or shacked up motels has made him pretty tough to the outside forces of mother nature. Even if it still made him sick here and there.

As if he’d let that stop him. The Hell he would really, but it isn’t as if he is getting sick now so there isn’t a point in worrying about it. He heads for the forest line, over the last few months he has found an odd sense of comfort near those creepy ass birch trees. He couldn’t explain it, nor did he ever want to or try to overthink on it but it isn’t normal. He isn’t much of a camper, a fisherman? Sure, sure, but he isn’t going to camp in his backyard. He isn’t a kid after all. Each step brings him closer to those eye shaped, weird strips of bark before he finally settles back on a rock; wiping off any stray bugs that happen to be on it. The moon seems to glimmer down on this spot, always around midnight.

Another one of Gravity Fall’s odd but more beautiful things it has going for it. The wave of energy died out as soon as he sat down, however, leaving him to settle back and tighten his coat around his wary body. The wind haw died down to nothing as his eyes start to drift heavily till they were close and he leans back;  shoulders brush against one of the birches.

A short nap out in the woods never killed anyone right?

His dreams are less than positive. Swirling screeches of pain ring through his ears so heavily that he is surprised it didn’t jolt him back awake. That unmistakable voice is yelling, a language he is not familiar with as he tries to run away from it- Unknowing that his body is beginning to respond in kind to his dream. Each step he ran leads him aimlessly closer to an unknown destination before a tight grip has him snapping from the screech and darkness back into reality. What’s gripping him? Eyes blink several times back into focus as he hears someone shout. Who is shouting like a damn mother hen? Quickly he shrugs the firm hand off as he swats it away. He catches a blurred image of Ford. Ford? Of course, that nerd had found him but why couldn’t his eyes focus? He tries to speak but his voice is gone as he is shouted, no, roared at by his brother. Eyes widen as he realizes that he isn’t actually awake and he tries to make himself wake up. Eyes blink once more to no avail.

“Stanley what on earth were you thinking you knuckleheaded nitwit? It’s only thirty-three degrees outside! Do you even hear me!?”

Why couldn’t he respond? The echo of laughter burns in his ears as he feels those strong hands grip into his jacket, a scowl on the smudged look of Sixer’s face.

“STAN ANSWER ME! ST….Stanley? STANLEY!”

God, why is he so pissed off? The echo booms louder, and louder before he gasps out and his eyes roll back; prickling with something hot, sticky and red. His vision turns black as he seems to fade away as if the projection of his vision is drifting farther and farther away- he felt small. Incredibly small as his body is suddenly put in a clawed vice.

The Hell? Stan tries to fight out of this strange sensation before it all fades to a calm static as he gets his voice finally. At this point, Ford is gasping for breath, too angry to properly lecture him anymore. Or maybe he got this wrong, his body felt as if he is being hugged and as he finally speak? He realizes he is being hugged; a groan gurgles out.

“Where the hell am I?”

Soft, something is soft and he glances around as his eyes squint- a hospital light above as he heaves out a mild huff. A hospital?

“Stanley thank goodness you’re awake- you had me worried for a moment there.” It is Ford, it is really Ford and not a smudge across his eyes.

His voice isn’t as gruff as he wants it to sound, waving his hand dismissively as he shrugs. “Yeesh, Sixer ya think I was dead or something.”

No response is given at first as his brother frowns, eyes cast down before he whispers out. “Stanley it’s been a week… You’ve been out for an entire week. After I found you in the woods next to… to IT, I carried you to the car but you never responded. They said you had a hemorrhage of sorts in your eyes that caused them to bleed for god’s sake!”

Bleeding? Hemorrhage? Why can’t he remember any of this? He would have questioned it further but as he tries to remember, a vice knocks his head for a spinning loop before he turns to the trash bucket next to his bed and upchucks. A week, a damn week in a hospital bed with probably a tube up the wanker and in his arm. Fucking hell. But this brought many questions to his head as he glances at Ford.

“Sixer… Why was I in the forest and, why, why the hell was I near that statue?”

The laughter burns in his ears once more and he soon feels sick to his stomach again. Whatever had led him outside that night clearly was pulling his strings- And he was going to cut those as soon as he could. How, well he was hoping Ford has an answer but the frown and worry reigning over his face has other plans…

Why did he make his way to Bill’s statue? 

 

 

—————–End.


	2. Sewn Bonds

 

The darkness looms over,  
It beckons me, sweetly so.  
It whispers deceit and temptations,  
Drawing me in, deeper and deeper still.  
The light above fades, a gasp for air  
with nothing to heave in or out.  
This is the end isn’t it, laughter spills  
in my ears;

I gave it my all.

==================CHAPTER TWO=====================

 

“You cannot defeat darkness by running from it, nor can you conquer your inner demons by hiding them from the world. In order to defeat the darkness, you must bring it into the light.”  
― Seth Adam Smith, Rip Van Winkle and the Pumpkin Lantern

Ticking, an annoying sound ringing about is all Stanley could focus on as he shifted in whatever mess of a bed he is in. It wouldn’t stop, as if it is his own ticker merely ticking down the minutes he has left. What a downing thought really, but he couldn’t agree more as he finally sits up to stare at the obnoxiously, over bright pink which is his alarm clock. He has gotten this oddly shaped, jelly bean alarm from Mabel a few months back for his birthday. Don’t get him wrong, he enjoys it, he does, but he also hates being up in the morning. Eyes adjust dimly as he realizes it is still dark out, wondering if he set the timer on the damn thing wrong or not. He reaches over only to fall face first on the cold floor.

“Goddammit, all…” A mutter of pained frustration and he sits back up; rubbing his nose with a grumble deep in his chest. Okay, obviously he isn’t awake enough to deal with this, and sure, he has gotten out of the hospital only a week ago but he is not crazy, is he? The clock isn’t making the noise, so what is?

At least he is able to get the time before trudging in his slippers to check out the window to verify. Three a.m., nowhere near time to wake up but apparently this ticking, ringing, whatever it is; beckons him to get up. So here he is, awake and annoyed as he stares out vaguely into the night air. It is gripping him once again, just like every night. Thankfully, however, Stanford usually stops him. He couldn’t explain it, what kind of guy just waltz up in the forest at night, looking aimlessly for a statue of the stupid demon he punched to death? Really, that is crazy talk! Then again, what else could he really say to himself, he isn’t a perfect bill of mental health either but he sure as hell didn’t do this sort of thing before. Maybe it is the effects of the memory gun four years ago? A shiver rolls down his spine coldly, making him grip the ledge of the window with bare white knuckles. Stanley didn’t regret his action, he just wishes it hadn’t taken such a toll. He didn’t expect to have his memories back, but having them constantly tugged away in a blink is nerve-wracking and stressing on his mind.

It’s because of that stupid demon, what was his name again? His eyes blink dully before he groans and rubs his face. He’s too tired for this. No, he’s too tired to even try to remember and with a yawn, he heads back to bed with a thud against the pillow. Noise fills his mind yet again, he hadn’t found the source and yet it seemed to drown his every breath and every slumbered induced moment until the morning sun rose to slap him in the face with a wake-up call. Music boomed loudly as he jerked awake and stretched- only to hit the edge of the desk in his room. Wait, desk? Eyes snap open before he grunts in pain, catching sight of the bed on the other end of the room. Why is he at the desk? This was strange, even for him but it didn’t take long for him to piece it together. Or try to anyways.

He must have gotten up again and merely came over and passed back out. Seemed reasonable enough right?

No matter, he is going to have to live with this. He wondered what the twins would think if they caught him like that, would they stop him? Probably, or their curiosity would get the better of them. Mabel especially. She is a wild card that may have tempered down in the last few years but she is still the goofball and part of Team Fun. As he gave one final stretch, his legs kick the chair out and he rises to the day. Might as well make some breakfast right? Only a quick glance is given to the clock as he notes it is ten in the morning; walking out to the kitchen to stir up the skillet with some eggs and… What the hell is turkey bacon? He squints his eyes but decides to cook it anyways, betting it is Ford who had gotten this weird, flat turkey skin meat. Seriously, what else is he supposed to call it? Bacon came from a pig, that was that. Did he do it because of Waddles? Stan had fed that pig bacon before, so if he is going for a sentimental and sensitive approach; he fails.

Eh, pushing the thought aside, he continues to cook as he hears his brother enter the room. Ford has been worried about him all night really, but he wouldn’t voice it despite his face showing it clear as the rain approaching. Instead, he sits down as he hears the skillet popping and gives a small glance at Stan. They both honestly are a tired mess, for different reasons. Ford had guarded the room all night despite wishing to get some actual rest. Stan, well, he had a shit time of sleeping and waking up at the desk. What is strange was him finally realizing he has a piece of paper on the desk, rubbing his temple as he tried to recall what he had done earlier. There was small, inked writing in some gibberish that he was sure he had never seen before. Was this? No, he quickly shakes the thought away with a sniff as he serves Ford his plate.

No need to dwell on past thoughts right now.

“You woke up several times.” It would be the first of their conversation this morning.

“Yea I know, couldn’t sleep well.” his best retort as he sat down, watching the coffee starting to brew.

Ford looks over, frames still tilted from waking up from a micro-nap, if he could even call it that; replying still. “Lee, not to trudge this up but-”

“Then don’t, m'fine. Ya act like I can’t even handle myself when I’ve done that for well over forty years.”

“That is not what I mean and you know that. I am simply referring to what happened last week, and the fact your eyes were bleeding. I’m sure there’s an explanation of this but it doesn’t look promising. If you wouldn’t mind, I want to do some tests.” His brows furrow then, knitting with a serious gaze that only made Stan grumble on more.

“Tests? What, so now you have to do your weird nerding on me too? C'mon, lighten up. So my eyes bled, coulda been worse.”

“Stanley.”

“What?!”

Ford heaves out a sigh and drops it, deciding it is better to refill his coffee than bicker like school children; for once.

The rest of the morning is quiet. If anything, this was worse than their bickering because at the very least they were communicating in some way. This? This is something Ford would rather have while Stan would usually burst through a door than be quiet. He supposed it couldn’t be helped, glancing him over before heading back down to the basement. Ford is worried, and by the looks of it? So is Stan. He didn’t voice it, but it shows in his wary eyes as he tries to grumble, and joke it away. Bleeding eyes, walking at night, and waking up at his desk? Hell, even writing in gibberish isn’t normal and Stan is beginning to wonder if he is going insane. Like Mcgucket, minus the memory zap… Well, actually he took that back. Dammit. Shifting up with a creak in his hip, the man found himself heading out the door for even more fresh air. It just kept calling him, not that he cared much for the outdoors. He isn’t a hippie. By far, he would rather punch a hippie than be called one, perhaps that is petty but who said he isn’t at times? Shaking the thoughts away with a huff, his attention is drawn away by a familiar voice.

“Hey Mr.Pines, you stopping in the Mystery Shack’s store today?” Soos is already making his way over to him, eager yet striding over in a calm walk.

Why would he visit that pain in the neck place? Yea, it is sentimental, he guesses but that is about it. “Huh? Oh, Soos. No, Why would I do that, I got a perfectly comfortable couch right here.” And with that, he plants his rear on the cushion for emphasis as he grabs a Pitt cola from the pack next to it.

“Haha, yea I guess. So uh, heard about you ending up in the hospital uh… You alright dude?”

“M'fine, Jesus is everyone going to ask? I got some bits of rock in my eye after I tripped; Ford just made a big deal outta nothin.” A quick lie, but it is better than having Soos tear up or worry. The kid needs a break from all that as Stan sees it.

Stan scratches at his head a bit, ruffling his hair as Soos seems to drop the subject; shoulders slacking as he relaxes. Seems the lied worked really. With a wave and a few more tidbits of conversation, Soos makes his way back to the store to dust it off again for what seemed to be the billionth time this week. Geez, just how much dust did he expect to clean anyway? The rest of the day went pretty smoothly, by the time it hit the evening hours, Stan had finished the whole pack of colas and has dozed off on the couch outside. The dream is not pleasant by any means, darkness… Only darkness and laughter.

Always laughter.

Within the darkness the laughter dies out as Stan slumbers more deeply, a strained voice grumbling out a shriek. “I’LL GET MY REVENGE YOU–Y-” Static. By the time the noise ended, Ford had found Stan and nudged him awake with a firm jab of his boot on the other’s leg to wake him up. “Come on, it’s dinner time and if I’m going to sit down and eat in the kitchen? Then so are you.” A murmur oozed out before Stan is fully conscious, leaving nothing but a cold chill running down Ford’s spine until he is frozen in place.

“Fordsy.”

At first, Stanford didn’t know what to do as the panic settled deep within his chest. Should he be more concerned? Yes, and he is. Only one person, one being, called him Fordsy and that was Bill. It left a pit in his stomach and a lump in his throat as he steadily steps closer and nudges his brother once more; more firmly. “Lee, I need you to wake up. Now.”

“M'up, m'up… God dammit can’t a man…” His eyes come into focus and he sees the absolute dread in his twin’s face and arches a brow. Is he bleeding again? Lifting his fingers up, he touches his eyes to check. Nope, no blood. “Why do you look like a damn ghost Ford?”

What could he say, what could he do? Swallowing back the nerves he desperately wants to listen to, Ford sighs out and shakes his head. “You looked sick while you slept. That’s all, are you coming in for dinner or what?”

“Can I say or what or are you just going to drag me in there like Pa?” No answer is given as his brother heads inside and wheezes out a cold, harsh breath from his lungs. Fordsy. He had said it clear as day, perhaps he didn’t mean to? No, there was no doubt in his mind now. Everything was beginning to piece together but he needs more time. The previous spells he had placed over the shack were effective to keeping Bill out but if he is in Stan’s mind already… Would that hurt Stan now as well? He needs to find a way to subdue the demon, he couldn’t face the end of the world again. Especially with the kids coming again this summer, they needed an actual summer minus the demonic triangle of multi-dimensional horror. Stan trudges past and breaks up his thoughts as he plops down with a yawn. The week must be wearing on him is all, that was it. It has to be, what other reason could there be?

Laughter.

Stan sticks a finger in his ear, wiggling it about to try and stop that obnoxious laugh but to no avail. Dinner is also quiet, Ford had stuffed the food down as quickly as he could, told Stan his goodnights and headed back down to his work down below to give Stan a moment to breathe. The kids would be here soon… He had to make sure they would be safe. He had to make sure Stan is safe, Soos, and everyone of Gravity Falls. Stan didn’t know this, he hadn’t really bothered to ask Ford what kind of nerd experiments he is doing but at the end of the week hit? He wished he had.

The next moments were a blur, he didn’t remember standing up or grabbing a marker from the counter; or anything really. With slippers on, he heads out into the night air once again as he walks towards the forest line. No one is going to be able to stop him this time, and if they had? It may have been too late anyway. On the fridge, scribbled in an odd language with a red marker; stated this.

“L'p edfn.”

This isn’t normal, nor could it even be called English but within this haze? Stan is left with empty hands and an empty mind as he slumps forward; closer to the statue now. His breath is a whisper, heart racing as his eyes focus on the statue now. Bill Cipher, the being who he had punched to oblivion and sacrificed… What had he sacrificed again? Brows furrow as he rubs his face. Where is he, and what is this stupid one eye, whatever it is, doing in the middle of the woods? Why is he in the woods? “..What’s going….on?”

Unsure of where, or why he is here, he reaches out towards the hand as he shakes it. Nothing. Whatever had compelled the man to be here, and to shake this hand is not around anymore. Or so he had thought. With a huff, he blinks and glances around. “Shit… I may have a problem. Stupid statue, what even do you want with me huh? What, even in death you have to mess with my family, or me? Mess with my head even more? Fuck that and fuck you, buddy.”

With a growl, Stan turns on his heel and starts to walk away before something audibly cracks. Eyes widen as he feels the wind whip around him and the area around the birch trees. It felt as if he is being snuffed out by these strong winds, landing back against the statue with a groan as it cracks more- the laughter spilling out now more loudly in his ears. The laughter is by then booming, making him curl forward and hold his ears, the feeling of sticky wetness bubbling past his fingers as he shouts out in pain. Blood, blood is coming from his ears, no, his ears and eyes now. It hurt, god dammit it hurt but what is doing this?

“L'p edfn.”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!!!!!” Silence. The ringing laughter that booms up above stops as the only noise left seems to be his own heartbeat and static. “Leave me alone….god…you stupid overrated dorito….leave me alone…Leave…” He slumps forward, body limp and eyes dimly looking forward to closing shut slowly. Leave me alone…

Darkness falls over his mind and another stirs.

“Brx doo zloo ihho pb zudwk, brx doo duh jrlqj wr uhjuhw wklv plvwdnh brx'yh pdgh.” An eerily familiar voice peeks out from the darkness, red static clinging to a very familiar form as it reaches out. He needs to hold his hand just a bit longer, just enough as he is active; his voice shrills out as he bites out another groan of pain as he falters in this murky existence…

“Lw kxuwv.”

It is only a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All cover art, starting poems and writing is by me!


	3. Screeching Bats

Bodies collapsing, breath escaping;  
I can’t stop myself from burning.  
These blurred images with their hands stretched out,  
Who are they?  
They reach and I recoil,  
Should I burn or should I reach out?  
Only time can tell.  
My salvation is but a grip away and yet I falter.  
I am flawed.

—————————————–Chapter 3—————————————–

 

“Between the radiant white of a clear conscience and the coal black of a conscience sullied by sin lie many shades of gray–where most of us live our lives. Not perfect but not beyond redemption.”  
― Sherry L. Hoppe, A Matter of Conscience: Redemption of a Hometown Hero, Bobby Hoppe

Sun glimpses pass the trees and the brush as it cascades to shurk the blanket of the night off of the land. Slumped near the statue is Stan, passed out with flecks of dried blood still from his ears and eyes coating his skin; body limp and pliable. He hadn’t stirred until the brisk of morning winded him awake with a groan. Is this going to continue to happen? His mind is a blurred daze, shakily lifting himself off of the ground as he leans back- weight pressed against the stone construct of the damn bastard who was causing all of this. It felt, warm? Immediately his mind came into focus as he glances back with mere pins of a gaze; lips falling open in shock. Warm, pulsing even? No, no way in Hell is this thing alive, right? Upon closer inspection, Stan runs his finger over the eye- scowling as he feels more heat. Clearly, the sun had just heated the stone, right?

No, it is just barely morning; No way did the sun heat it up. Shifting, he does what he feels his gut is telling him to and punches the eye as it cracks just a bit more. Sure, it may not help matters but it made him feel better as he wipes his face to try and peel the dried mess off of his cheeks and even his neck. How is he not dead? Stan isn’t a young stallion, he is a wrinkly old man who had hip problems from time to time so why isn’t this his final nail in his own coffin?

The crack starts to smoke out with wisps of black smoke, causing him to back up quickly and keep his guard. Okay Stan, maybe that wasn’t the best option but how is he supposed to know that this dumb demon leftover would start to smoke if it cracked? Let alone be heated by god knows what. His head throbs too much to think about it or even begin to rationalize this as he makes his way to the Mystery Shack. For once it seems Ford isn’t around, perhaps in that hobbit bunker of his? Eh, no matter. As he walks up, he’s greeted by Soos and even Melody as they notice his lack of composure.

“Woah Mr.Pines are you alright?” She steps closer, brows knit in worry as he shrugs it off and takes a glance around.

“M'fine, I am but I need to find Ford. Where is he?” It is quick, perhaps even gruff but he has to tell him about the smoking, cracked mess in the woods.

Soos steps closer and rubs his neck. “What’s up? You got uh, a bit of blood… on your face? Neck too, oh wow ahaha; You sure you’re okay?”

With a groan, he looks around, tapping his foot. “..Ugh, yea yea- I am, but I need to find my nerd of a brother. Where is he?”

“He’s in the kitchen, he’s been worried about you all night, and for good reasoning, it looks like.”

With a nod, he trudges his way inside with a quick ‘thank you’ and a wave. He is too tired and far too blunt for this. Ford practically knocks his chair back as he steps in, mouth opening before he’s cut off with a comment immediately from Stan.

“So that statue is smoking and warm? Probably should do something about that.” What, he isn’t the best at flowering up subjects. Sue him.

“WHAT!?” Ford wastes no time as he nearly dashes out before noticing Stan’s face and stopping. “Stan, your eyes… I need to get you checked up first.”

“Smoking, demonic statue with heat coming from it? Seems a bit more important there Ford. I can handle myself just fine without ya worrying so run off and go fix it before I decide to take a bat to the damn thing.”

Ford is less than thrilled over that, but he needed to make sure he had the right gear to deal with Bill. Heading to the room, he grabs his journals and heads down to the basement where he could get some spare unicorn hair and the very sigils he needed to keep Bill out. This isn’t good. He kept repeating it in his head over and over as he packs his trench down and a bag as he heads out to the forest line. Without bothering with a greeting or a farewell to the others, he keeps focused as his walk turns to a dash, sliding down the path as he jumps over a fallen log and catches a branch to launch himself further. His fight or flight instincts are on high, his guard up as he nears the statue. Of all things to happen, he had hoped with a small sliver of his heart that Stan’s weird behavior was due to his lack of memory which made his mind jump here and there but this? Bleeding eyes, ears, and walking to the statue at night? It could only mean Bill is still around and that…

That could spell disaster for everyone in Gravity Falls.

A few more steps and Ford is now facing the smoking mess of a relic; hand outstretched as moss-coated it’s stone form. The cracks were against where his bowtie is, his eye and especially his hand. The air felt thick, tense and electrified with energy as the black smoke seeps out to merely dissipate up high. Unloading his bag, a knot tightens in his throat as he tries to rip his eyes from Bill. This is the right thing to do, he knew this and already knew what had to be done but such a strange occurrence like this? Part of him wanted to jot it down, test it out, mark his findings, and try to figure it out more. However, that was just a fool’s mind at work. Shaking his thoughts and focusing on the task at hand, he sets up the protection circle; Setting it around the statue for reassurance. It took some time, and he had hoped Stan decided to stay home and rest but apparently nothing is going to turn out today. Hearing the footsteps, he stiffens before looking over his shoulder to see his brother approaching. Of course, why would he assume his brother wouldn’t meddle in this?

Again, he probably should have asked him to lay down while he did this but he was occupied with preparing the spell and dashing out. Lovely Ford, just lovely.

“What the hell— That weird unicorn spell thing again?” His reply came off gruff as usual, with a tinge of worry. Sure that spell had worked in the past but who is to say it would work now? Or is that some magic gobbity gook that stays or something?

Ford sighs and nods, pausing only to stand up and check as he grips the hair tightly in his grasp. “Yes Stanley, if he is coming back then this will stop him from leaving this area. It will give us time to round up the members of the wheel just like what I had tied to do last time… Before being interrupted.”

“Hey /you/ are the one that decided to correct my grammar ya jerk, but getting everyone are you meaning the weird symbol people?”

Ford sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes, the weird symbol people Lee. I’m sure they are all in town still, but we’ll have to get Dipper and Mabel here sooner than expected..”

“Ooh no, like hell we are. Those kids have had enough nighm— Your statue is glowing.”

“What!?”

Ford looks back, noticing the blue glow around the hand as it whips across its form and the color seems to drain in the grass, the trees, and the sky; Ford near puts himself in panic mode. This is not good at all. Memories flash at how the colors shift, reminding him of their past experiences as he grips the hair tighter; lost in his own moment of worry. Stan takes this as a bad sign and grabs the hair from his hand, walking over as he tries to put it down in the circle to finish it. Tried being the keyword as Ford grabs his arm and startles him, his hand and arm crashing against the statue’s hand as he huffs.

“What the hell!? I was just trying to finish this stupid circle since ya started to go into la-la land ya damn nerd!” His voice echoes, however, mingling with another as he feels heavier. All he did is bump the stupid hand right? Looking back, he notices it break off completely as his eyes widen. Shit.

Ford’s grip tightens, trying to remove him from the spot as he gruffs out a noise. “Stan, get away from the statue! It’s not….safe…” His breath hitches and he lets go, taking a step back as he notices Stan isn’t budging. It is as if he isn’t even in control of his body, his lips moving and his words being of himself but his arm is staying right where it had knocked over the thin arm of the demon’s off, the glow whipping around him now.

“STANLEY!” A near shout, Ford gears himself and grabs him again despite the panic as his eyes scrunch tight and he growls under his breath. “Get away from it!”

“I— I cant move! Shit, what the hell kind of circle thing is this?!” The unicorn hair falls down and finishes the circle, but it shouldn’t affect his brother. Both of them are now panicking, startled and scared as he kicks the spell to mess it up, ripping his brother away as he gets to his knees to fix it. He has to have time, this has to fix it- IT HAS TO. Vision turns to blur as he feels a pain in the back of his head, hunching forward as he groans- Was he just hit? Blinking warily, he rolls out of the way for the next hit, noticing Stan is the attacker.

“What the hell Stanley!? Why on earth did you hi—-hit me…Oh no….No!”

Stan looks over at him, eyes dimly glowing as slits turn cat-like and he smirks; The time is now. “Sorry Sixer, did that hurt? Well, I hope it did! You’re going to pay, all of you are! hahahahhahah! Finally, I have to give it to your brother, he really is dense when it comes to big red flags popping up. Writing gibberish on the fridge, his desk and not to mention the moonlight strolls? Heh, and he is supposed to be the family con man? That’s just hilarious!”

“N-no this can’t be…” Ford stands up and grits his teeth, a shaky breath hissing out of his lungs before he lunges forward and barrels himself into Stan; knocking them both into the statue as it shatters completely.

“NO!!”

Each shard echoed with smoke before blinding blue light blasts through both of the brothers, a chaotic mingle of laughter and screams filling the air. Stan and Ford both are sent back at that moment, landing roughly on the ground as the light reaches the sky and sinks back down, an eye emerging from the mass of power. Something is wrong, the laughter dying to a shriek of pain as it dissipates to black smoke once more and Bill drops down with a hunched form. He is shrieking, the circle keeping him in the spot but this isn’t the cause. Something has gone wrong with him coming back, perhaps it was due to him forcibly taking over Stan in a quick fit to get himself in one piece again, perhaps it had been because they destroyed the statue in their squabble, but something is wrong and even the All Seeing Eye couldn’t understand it.

His wailing goes unnoticed for a bit before Ford groans and sits up, eyes wide with fear as he sees his enemy in the circle- shrieking and bent over. His color is no longer a vibrant yellow but a tar black, his outline white and his eye is deeply painted crimson as if drawn straight out of blood. Finally, the wail of pain ends as he looks at them both, reaching out as his hand shifts to claws to rake against the barrier. Stan sits up finally, looking dazed and blank as he watches in silence. His mind is drawing a blank for a response even, only watching as he couldn’t even give a quip about how the bastard is trapped.

Bill rakes against the barrier over and over, bubbling with anger before hunching forward and wailing out once more. His body is shifting, no, that isn’t correct. How could one describe a physical form looking as if it is turning to blurred pixels? It is odd to witness, even more odd to see the other actually experience this much apparent pain as he finally stands up.

“Gaaahhh!!!! ”?!SENIP KCIRBLIF DROFNATS EM OT ENOD UOY EVAH TAHW ,STRUH TI"

“Bill.” How else is he going to gain the demon’s attention? His voice trails off despite his cold and tense posture as he stands in front of the barrier.

“”!?!!OD UOY DID TAHW" His voice shrills out before dying to an actual whimper, the pixeled appearance simmering down to show his black bricks once more.

Ford watches as he finally finds his voice properly. “You’re supposed to be dead… How did you come back?”

At first, Bill laughs as he wants nothing more than to gloat in his face even as he is racked with this sensation of unpleasantries. The pain is normally hilarious when it came to meatsacks but this? This isn’t. He felt as if he is being torn apart and reconfigured over and over every time he moves and due to this, he did all he can to curl away from it. Laying flat, his arms grow limp; he doesn’t give a reply to the other. No quips, no snarky remarks as usual; just a lack of response would be his answer as Ford frowns.

He isn’t falling for it if the other is trying to play a sympathy card, it was burned a long time ago. He feels no sympathy for the other, despite their previous partnership and history. His anger and spilled out spite overruled anything kind towards the demon. His lying muse, his deceitful partner that had only used him! He had been so blind and had blamed himself for it completely. Ford had made many mistakes, and Bill is one of them. Yes, he could say that now but is it really true? He lies to himself to the point it is true, so in a sense it is. The older man is about to bark out for an answer but is beat to it as Bill shakily gets back up and looks at him; eye wide as the white slit looks frazzled against the crimson of his orb. His body is beginning to shred away and reform at his sides, his legs, and arms as he gives out another wail of distress.

“St…Stanford, it hurts- what’s happening to me!?” Admitting it hurt is something Bill didn’t actually mean to go for, but if it helps in making it stop? Well, for once he’d just have to go with it.

Taken back by him admitting he hadn’t a clue to what is happening, and over the fact, he is in real pain; Ford’s anger dies out like a blown out candle. Of course, he should be grateful the damn demon is in pain but his chest feels tight. It was one thing to fight the other when he is powerful, an omnipotent being that could recover from such injuries and actually fight back but this isn’t… It feels wrong in a way. Now, of course, he isn’t about to remove the circle, but he could step closer. So he does, despite the panic rising in his chest, despite the nagging scream in the back of his skull to make him turn tail and run with his brother; He gets inside the circle.

It had been a mistake. Bill lunges immediately as his claws dig into his shoulders, laughter spilling out of his form as he tries to shred into him. With a groan, Ford grabs at his thin wrists and wrestles him off of him before scowling. “MAKE THIS STOP YOU DIMWITTED, FIVE SENSE, ONE LIFESPANNED SKINPUPPET!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about you cretin!” His own bark comes out hoarse due to pain, blood coating over his shoulders before Bill writhes once more and grows limp; eye closing as his form once more shifts painfully in the other’s grip. “You need to stop moving!” Is he actually ordering Bill to stop moving? Yes, he is but it falls on deaf ears as the other writhes and screeches before stilling again as his body turns limp. Ford has ahold of his wrists still as he dangles there, out cold for the moment. Setting him down, Stanford glances him over before backstepping out of the protection spell and looking over at Stan.

“Go back to the shack Stanley, let Melody and Soos know what happened and tell them…”

Stan is still at a loss for words, eyes glossy and dim before he blinks and nods. He doesn’t grumble or gripe over this, merely heading back to the shack as he is asked. His brain hurt too much to argue, and he’d rather be near home than around this. Whatever this is. He’d have time to get angry once his mind resets itself with a faceplant on the bed and a ten hour, no, fifteen-hour nap. Maybe.

Ford sighs, looking at the small, fainted being that once was his partner, that is now his enemy, and continues.

“I won’t be coming back to the Shack until this is figured out.”

But what would he do and what is happening to Bill?


	4. Corrupted Data

The hand is still outstretched to me,  
my lungs burn with anger and spite,  
But alas even with all my might;  
I can not take it.  
Too much weighs me down,  
I am blind to this kindness,  
and as I am blind;  
I am weak.  
This weakness digs deeper,  
plunging me further into the darkness;  
How can you even think to save me?  
I, the one who bit first and you;  
The one who was first to fall blind.  
A silver tongue turns to stone,  
claws crumble and I sink;  
It is futile.  
—————————————–Chapter 4—————————————–

Never bite the hand that feeds you. You just might need that hand to pick you back up when you fall.  
-Unknown

Hours, it has been five hours specifically since Bill has come back and after the mistake of stepping into the circle and his shoulders turning to mincemeat; Ford remains on watch. Soos, Melody, and Stan have checked on him after an hour but with nothing to offer? They make their way back to the Shack. He knows what he has to do, he has to find a way to defeat Bill for good but how is one to beat a being of pure energy with near-omnipotent powers and immortality? Few and slim weaknesses were described but as it stands, he could not form the Cipher Wheel until the twins arrive and that wasn’t for a week or so. Or perhaps longer, due to him sticking in the basement he had lost track of time. It didn’t matter, he currently could do nothing except this spell that he hopes will hold until then. Dim, worn eyes glance over the flat being that is still unconscious. 

Bill, he had been so panicked and had claimed something was hurting to which Ford merely brushed off in a moment of his own worry but now he has time to think. He has time to plan as well. The other’s organic form was shifting uncontrollably when he was conscious, leading to the conclusion that he is unstable. There was nothing he knew that could fix this nor did he want to because it allows him to stay in a weakened, more pliable state. With that, however, came cons to it such as a lack of an answer. How did he come back? Was it due to Stanley’s memories coming back? Had he been trapped in his brother’s mind or the statue? Many questions only result in more questions with no end or answer and all but made the elder gruff out a noise of frustration.

A twitch catches his eyes as his breath halts and his eyes widen; Bill is stirring. Tiny claws dig at the ground as he rises, form bent forward oddly so as his eye stares forward- blank and red. No pupil, no focus seems to echo in him as his arms falter and shift as well as his sides; making a groan whimper out while he slumps back down and falls out once again. He is beyond weak right now, unable to keep himself together, and it is truly tearing himself apart, isn’t it? Ford stands up after having sat down for these past few hours; entering the circle as he looks him over. Again, it is a mistake but it doesn’t seem he is even awake at this point. Kneeling down, Ford picks him up as if to check him over. 

Fingers run over the bricks that pixelate against his touch- making the other squirm now before screeching and flailing suddenly. Surprised, he drops him which only makes the other screech louder as he backs back out with a yelp. His shoulders were still sore, coated against his trench and turtleneck near painfully. Each shift made the fabric pull up the dried blood which is less than pleasant but hardly anything he is concerned over compared to the immediate danger that is in a circle of magic protection.

Racking his brain, Ford wastes no time any longer as he pulls free a smaller, black journal with a silver hand against the cover from his inner pocket of the coat. Within its pages contain every sigil and cipher that he has collected over the years. From Alchemic signs, Greek cryptology, and even Flantlandian that he had managed to learn from Bill himself. Something has to be able to aid in this as he scrolls through the pages for the next two hours; Going over every cited secret code. Something has to help, Ford is stubborn and he won’t surrender easily even if he should have by now. By the eighth hour, he heaves out a yawn, checking his watch drearily against his breast pocket. A darling gift with an owl on it from Mabel and Dipper last year during Christmas. It is endearing, to say the least, and quite handy as he checks the time with a grumble.

The only thing that seems to be a possibility would be the spell that is keeping him in the circle is the cause but that is not a true and clear answer sustained with facts. Going over his notes, he goes to a blank page and starts to write.

:::: Journal Entry One:

“Fate has put us head to head once more. I fear I am not strong enough for this as I once was. But it does not matter, I have to force myself to be and take this challenge head-on. He is injured, I am left with many questions but I know one thing;

We may have a chance if he can’t gain his powers.”

:::::

It didn’t help to write this, of course, but it did let his nerves settle back as he finally notices one symbol that may help after all. The Hermetic Seal of Light. ‘Based on the ancient Pythagorean philosophy, the symbol of Quintessence is considered to be the synthesis of alchemy and also referred to as the Hermetic Seal. It contains the triangle, the circle and the square that represent the spirit, soul, and body, all the elements essential for alchemical transformation. The Hermetic alchemy uses the subtle fires of the human body, including sexuality and love as powerful tools for spiritual development, while transmuting the physical body matter into purer forms of energy’. Ford rarely looks over these older seals due to a lack of use but it seems he may need them now more than ever. What made it useful is the last indication how it could transmute physical body matter into purer forms of energy. Combining the sigils and restraints of the seal he used on the shack, and the one currently housing the other; He may be able to create a binding spell against Bill himself but keep his form more stable.

It is a stretch, and he needs more time to work on this but with what time could he work with on this?

“This is beyond frustrating….” He finally breathes out his thoughts, eyes downcast against the fainted all-seeing eye. His tone is gruff but is waning to a murmur before he sees Bill now with his eye open but unmoving. He has heard him apparently.

At first, he says nothing as he lays there, glows dim and fractured across his bricks and limbs before he finally speaks. “You think this is going to keep me subdued forever? I’ll find a weak spot IQ, and I’ll get out and when I do~… Heh, I’m going to have a special little party reserved just. for. you!”

“I’m not the cause of your situation right now.” His reply, though a huff of anger; is true to some claim. He didn’t cause Bill’s odd state of existence, but he didn’t know the reason for it either and it seems Bill was in the same predicament.

“Hah!…. You, you did this. You had to of! Sure are a sore loser aren’t you Fordsy, keeping me in this circ– GAAHH!!!” The distortions start to wrack his body once more, a screech sounding through the setting air. It is beyond irritating to hear his blood-curdling screams but with little to go on; Ford shouts above his screams.

“IF YOU WANT THIS TO STOP THEN YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE!”

The writhing and flailing cease up once it stops, his body heaving as he remains quiet. How long did it take for the silence to settle in before Bill finally replies? He doesn’t bother to look at his watch as the other speaks. “Listen to you, a useless meatsack who, who couldn’t even pull the trigger right? Hah! Hilarious but I’ll bite, what could you know that could make this stop?”

Ford bites back a retort as he swallows and stands up; eyes narrowing. “I have a way to make you stable, but I want answers. How are you even alive? How did you manage to come back? I want those answers Cipher.”

Bill huffs out in annoyance, lifting himself back up as he glares towards Ford; Well his boot anyways. “You really think that tin can of a gun could keep me away forever? Maybe you’re even denser than your brother. Y'know, the whole near immortal shtick wasn’t a lie Brainiac; I’m damn near untouchable. A being of pure energy! All it took was some recovery time, you act like your weak little human tech could even do me in for good! Haha, cute.”

That stung, it was the only plan he had left when the other had destroyed the Cipher Wheel and captured everyone. The kids had darted off and Stanley had chosen this plan above anything he had tried to cook up in that short time. It had been rushed, a leap of faith and now? An utter failure. Ford would regret it even more now. Stanley had given up his mind and for what? For the damn demon to come back four years later? Ridiculous and it hit far too deep in his pride as he frowns, biting his lip in contempt. His tone is low, his voice holding no strength now. “I knew it wouldn’t work, part of me anyways but one could hope. Fine, you’re back…”

He glances down at him, eyes suddenly cold, hardened and far too calm with all things considered. “But you won’t be free of this circle, I should just let your form continue to writhe Cipher. For everything you’ve done to me, my family and everyone you’ve ever come into contact with. You–”

“Stop right there Stanford, gnnn…” He groans out as his arm vanishes for a moment- static and flayed out like a sheet of paper in a shredder before returning. “I’m tired of you always jumping to that. I gave you exactly what you wanted, sure I didn’t say the whole truth and I let you run wild with the facts I did tell you but the FACT is? I told the truth. I can’t twist a deal completely, I’m bound to them and if you had half a brain cell on remembering my exact words and not your stupid, fleshy feelings you’d see that. You fell for the muse idea, but everything else? All true. You–Heh, You read the warning, and you ignored them. So take some blame why don’t ya Sixer, and quit tossing mine in the mud you stupid fleshbag.” His form is keeping stable as he ranted, perhaps due to a lack of movement? Ford grumbles under his breath as his pride is struck down once more. “You said I would learn the secrets of the universe, that I would cha—”

“You did change the world, or would have. By my side, just like the rest of my freaks…But no, you got col–GAAAHHH!!” His tone breaks out as he claws at the ground once more, curling and clawing as his body distorts even further before his voice breaks to a whimper as his eye dims. Ford is quiet during this, far too quiet as he tries to push his intrusive thoughts on what Bill has said. He is a liar, he has always twisted the truth and preserved himself on a higher standing than anyone else and that is the real truth whether Cipher realized that or not. He is a con man underneath his powers, a silver-tongued devil which only offers help for his own gain. Another cry finally makes him respond before he sees globs of clear, pearl-hued droplets lift up into the air around Cipher’s eye; misting to nothingness before he shuts it to stop himself.

Is he… crying?

That only made the knot in his stomach bubble to fury as he shook. The other deserves this pain, for everything he has done. He hurt the kids, he hurt Stan; He hurt that odd child with white hair in a cage. He wouldn’t even go over the fact he had a throne of agony during Weirdmaggedon! The other civilizations that had fallen thanks to Cipher’s influence were undeniable and the other merely wanted him to put it on himself? Partners… Joined blame. Perhaps that’s what the other is going for but he would not be so easily swayed as he turns on his heel and left without another word. The cries die out behind him with a whimper and then silence as he reaches the shack. Stan is in his own room, sleeping like a rock on the bottom of the seafloor. He has no doubt that the other would sleep through him coming home and without a word to Melody or Soos? He did just the same. He sleeps heavily in the basement, deciding to take a pillow and a blanket he usually keeps for Stan in the living room. He makes a quick pallet on the floor of the room he decides to crash in, falling asleep near immediately.

His dreams are not pleasant.

Swirls of bitter memories tangle with Bill, laughter and then the high pitch scream that burns his ears to the point he jolts awake. The feeling of chains still ghosting over his sweaty skin is all he can remember. His chest jerks, eyes in a state of panic as he trembles in his little cot. He has to stop this, eyes darting as the room blurs while he holds his head and screams. “NO MORE!!” It is rare to have such a fit of flashbacks and he isn’t sure what has caused it to happen as ghosts of the past seem to go through the room, Fiddleford and himself especially. They were discussing, no shouting at one another over the tapestries and gold statue of his beloved muse. “Stop…It’s just, the past; it’s already happened… Get your head together Stanford. Come on.” The room seems to fade as he feels smaller and smaller before his wrists felt iced as well as his neck. Chains? Ford chokes out an animalistic sob, scrambling back against them as he struggles with his own fit. Time is irrelevant in this madness he found himself in, drowning out the very concept as he goes through his scrambled memories before ceasing with a worn outcry.

“Please…..”

Eyes close as he huddles beneath his desk, blanket wrapped around him too tightly as he falls back to sleep after settling his racing heart. The morning is less pleasant but bearable enough as he slips out, his bones popping here and there. He is sore, so much so he wished he could remember what had caused him to bunker under the desk but regardless; He is awake and needed something to eat. Memories start to flood in as he readies himself for the coming morning, watching as the sun peeks out between the tree line to greet him. Soos and Melody are already up and raring to go as they offer him a plate of eggs, bacon, and pancakes for him to fill up on. His ears are still ringing as he gives a mute response, a yes here and a no there; Unable to process anything further. Stan is still asleep, recovering from the ordeal and blood loss; He should take him to the hospital but Stan would only refuse it as always. He’d rather staple a wound close than go to the hospital after all.

He stays quiet mostly until lunch before he hears a screech even near the Shack. Bill. Right, of course, he would be screeching and wailing for as long as his lungs will allow. Did he even possess lungs? He hasn’t a clue. Deciding to try out his theory, he gathers what little supplies he has left and mixtures them in the container he whips up as he sits on the porch. Painting the unicorn hair and dicing it so fine it blends well into the mix, Ford hopes it will seal more cleanly once it is applied. It will most likely meld like a wax marking against the surface he applies it to and the surface would be Cipher himself. Now he just needs to put the seal on him, he knew the other will not stay still and let him, a plan was needed for that. Ford has just the right plan as he makes his way to the birch trees once more, the loud wails of the other booming as it rings in his skull.

“LET ME OOOOOUUUUTT!!!!!!! LET ME OUT, LET ME OUT!!!”

What an annoyance.

“DAMN YOU, I’LL GET MY REVENGE STANFORD FILBRICK PINES! GAAAAAAA! AAAAAAAAAHH!!!”

Maybe he could just let the other crumble?

“….Let….me out…”

Finally, the other stops as he sinks to his knees and slumps forward just as the other times; front now planted against the ground with a tired groan. It is a perfect shot as he creeps closer, pulling out a piece of wax paper and the container of his spell. Acting quick, he draws it out thickly against the paper and enters the circle. Bill didn’t know what hit him as he recoveres, too exhausted to move as the wax paper is placed on his back. The seal lights up a bright pink as it sinks into his bricks and makes him once again scream out before stilling. The other is clearly exhausted to the point he couldn’t fight anymore and with this seal? It kept his weirdness out, and he hopes it would keep his powers at bay as well. Looking at him, the color of black doesn’t fade, the red glow is gone as he rests there against the dirt he had clawed up to clumps and bits of rock. Huffing out, Ford finally decides to kneel down as he picks him up; checking for a pulse against his thin wrist. Could Bill even have a pulse? Again, he had no information on this matter but it is worth a shot.

It is faint, but present as he feels him slump against his trench as his eye barely pokes open- a clawed hand reaching up before sliding down his chest. His last attack and retort against the elder before finally resting fully. Ford walks back to the shack then, his once muse still within his grasp as he keeps silent; mind swirling with worry and stinging memories. The cool feeling of the chains against his throat echo in his mind. The walk is the longest one yet, his eyes downcast on his enemy with each step.

Chains, the cool sensation electrified as smoke bellowed…

This is a mistake.


	5. Futility

This new existence burns,  
I'm yearning for rebellion and attack,  
I yearn for freedom yet the wings that once carried me,  
Are no more. 

—————————————–Chapter 5—————————————–  
At the end of the Day, you can either focus on what's tearing you apart, or what's holding you together. -Unkown

Damp, cold and heavy weighting is the only feeling that encases Bill as he is carried to the shack. The unbearable instability that has plagued him these past few days is all but that; a plague. The demon was slumped within Ford's grasp, even now before they both reach the shack as the clouds up above weep with their worries. Rain, that is what is making him so damp. What an idiot for a carrier, he couldn't even cover him with that trench of his. No complaints would actually be heard as Bill remains in this murky in between. The seal was placed before he could completely gather his bearings, unwillingly if he could add; Not that it mattered really. Apparently whatever wax whipped up spell his old nerd has made clearly stopped the glitching but Bill is hardly pleased. Thoughts circle and swirl to dreams as shouting is all but ignored... 

The storm was so sudden that Ford had to make a dash towards the shack, the demon tight in the crook of his left arm as his boots beat against the dampening ground. The other hasn't responded, it was probably the only sense of sleep the being has actually gotten that is undisturbed compared to the last few days. The other moments of being passed out only caused by cries of pain and what he has now deemed as 'glitching between the planes', sleep didn't seem like an option that Bill even had. No matter, Ford is on a mission as he reaches the shack with a shallow pant wisping from his lungs. Stan is inside thankfully, it is going to be hard enough to explain to Soos and Melody, let alone the man who has been horribly attacked and tortured with the coming back of this all-seeing bastard. Stan is going to crush Bill as soon as he spots him, not that Ford disagrees; The imagery of their past ringing firmly in his ears all but leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. The porch seems like the best spot but he knows well enough that he is going to have to speak to them all at one point or another. He doesn't have much time to prepare a proper analysis of the situation as Melody slips out and looks at him before resting her gaze on the slumbering triangle near lazily in his left arm.

"Is that...?" She begins with a failed question, stopping herself before offering a small smile. "You're drenched Mr. Pines, why don't you come in and dry off? I think I have two towels clean."

Ford glances away, only allowing himself a small gander at Bill before replying. "I'm fine, really, but I appreciate your offer Melody. Yes, this is him. I was hoping to have more to give you for an answ--" Ford is abruptly cut off by Melody, her tone soft but strong in resolve. 

"Hey, it's okay. I only know about him thanks to you guys, but the little guy is soaking wet and so are you. As I see it, maybe you should both dry off and I could make a little blanket pallet on the couch for him. We can get to the details later okay?"

There was no way he could fight her reasoning, and so with a small nod; He heads inside to dry off with a new change of clothes and to let her keep ahold of Bill. Bill stirs from being moved from the warm spot near Ford's ribs and arm to a couch; Eye peering opening before he growls out irritably. What was going on!? His eye is blurred, dazed perhaps as he takes note of the brown-haired, blob of a meat sack tucking a blanket around him after apparently drying him? What the hell? The growl only gets worse before he swipes at her, digits shifting to claws aggressively as he barks out a retort.

"JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO UP AND TOUCH ME!?"

Melody blinks, stepping back from the swipe before offering a nervous smile as she tugs at her ponytail. "Well, guess you're awake. Hi, I'm Melody and you were soaking wet so I figured you'd want to get dry and warm?" 

He huffs, waving her off before settling in the blanket, finding it to be quite soft. Bleh, if he stayed in this he'd fall back asleep and he's had enough of that annoyance! "Not really caring about your name, where am I? Where did that six-fingered nerd run off to?"

She chuckles at that before shrugging. "He needed to dry off too, and a new set of clothes. So you're the infamous Bill?" 

"Bill Cipher," he's quick to correct on his title, before blinking back into focus; eye scanning over everything. So he is in the Mystery Shack? It looked a bit cleaned up compared to how it used to be... Hm. Oh well, it didn't matter because he is going to find the quickest way out and leave this place in the dust! He shifts as he is glad that his body doesn't glitch out or shift between the plane of the mind and reality; sighing out. As that old coot is getting dressed, he has a chance to get out and regroup and that is exactly what he is going to do. Kicking out of the blanket, the cold hits him as he goes to float off the edge; feet dragging off of the couch before he plummets down eye first as he screeches. Why didn't it work, why wasn't he floating? Melody sucks in a laugh, it was comical but she is quick to offer a hand as Ford steps out to see red cross over her hand and a yelp before she jumps back. 

Blood coats his tiny claws as he growls, glaring with a fierce despise as the blood drips onto the carpet. As she had reached for him, he was quick to swipe yet again, already infuriated at how he could no longer float. Ford reacts, heel driving into the wood before he lunges and bashes his shoulder against the demon's side, barreling them both to the ground as he subdues him. 

"Stay back Melody! I didn't think he would wake up this quick!" His tone is full of rage as the screeching, writhing demon claws at his sweater and kicks at his stomach. 

"GET OFFA ME YOU OVER-SIZED, EGOTISTICAL, FIVE-SENSED, DIMWITTED ASSHOLE!" Bill loses his steam, body lurching with each frazzled breath if one could say his body glowing and dimming was breathing really. 

The screeching and struggle between the two get Soos's attention first before Stan steps in as well. This isn't good Ford thinks, restraining the tiny arms as he looks back in surprise. "S-Stanley you should be resting... Melody are you alright? Soos, she needs her hand checked out."

No amount of his quickened reply is enough as Stan yanks him up by the back of his sweater, Bill sitting up before a fist is immediately connected to his apex; more specifically? His eye. Another blood, curdling scream echoes as the demon kicks and writhes, holding his injured eye as he scrambles to press his shape against anything. Ford adjusts his collar before grabbing Stan's arm to pull it back as he steps in between, leg closer to Bill before he shouts out. God dammit! It's happening too fast, the attack, the struggle and now a bite against his leg; What else could possibly happen? Bill sinks his teeth into the leg as he writhes, unable to see who he attacked as he chomps and is shaken like a rabid dog. Stan is less than thrilled, grabbing Ford with his free hand as he scowls.

"Get that damn thing out of here now!" His retort is given another, Ford's own tone shifting to anger. "There is nowhere else other than the bunker and you know that! GET YOUR TEETH OUT OF ME YOU CRETIN!" Bill lets go, lids shifting back as his eye shuts close; still gripping the leg now. What on earth, no, why is this happening is a better question. Melody pats Stan to separate them, Soos joining in to pry Bill off of Ford's leg as he kicks and growls out.

"I'M GOING TO BITE YOUR LEG OFF FEZ!" Bill couldn't see, the panic is quickly rising and it shows as Soos holds Bill despite his wrists being kicked at. Ford's leg is wet, red peeking through the fabric as he shoves Stan away and takes a calming breath; holding his hand out.

"Stanley, I know. I know this isn't a prime situation-" His eyes widen as he dodges a swift punch, his twin far too angry over this entire situation. "Oh no, you're not going to rationalize any of this crap! The kids are gonna be here, Melody and Soos live here and you want to bring that horrible monster BACK TO THE SHACK?! You've lost yer damn mind if you think I'll be okay with that!" 

Never mind the fact the being has played hackey sack with his mind, or hurt him in many ways; His family came first. Ford, Melody, Soos, and Stan all grow quiet as the growling ends, and the triangular enemy speaks; eye focused on Ford's bleeding leg.

"You think you can carry me here like some pet, and then not expect a bad reaction? You're denser than you used to be Sixer! HAHAAHAHAHAAH!" 

Her hand is still bleeding before she tears her shirt to wrap around her clawed up palm and fingers, shaking her head. This needed to have a solution and fast before the men tore one another apart. "Alright that's enough, all of you. Just, wow, okay..." She needs to think of a plan, where could Ford take Bill for Stan could let out his steam, and not on Ford or the small, child-sized triangle. It hits her quick enough before Stan has any more venom to spit out, or Ford as she clears her throat.

"Take him down to the basement, that's your area anyways right Mr.Pines? Maybe that could work until we all relax a bit?" Soos nods before he accidentally drops Bill which only makes the other more aggressive, swatting at anything in arm's reach. It is a horrible situation, Stan being a shouting mess of incoherence, Ford becoming just as tense and strained with his anger; It would only escalate if someone didn't separate them all. There is nothing else to say between the gripped twins, each one at this point grabbing at each other's collar as they sneer; This is a mistake. After a moment of breath, Ford finally sighs out before picking Bill up and making his way to the basement; not another word given to anyone... No offer either to Bill if he even wants to go to a murky basement. 

Bill struggles, of course, kicking before his energy spurtz out and he slouches in the grip; panting with a growl. "How...dare you try and treat me like a pet." Ford rolls his eyes, the limp the only thing showing besides a cold expression. "I was not, and I don't intend on keeping you as a pet or even having you around my family." The elevator ride is silent, Bill's glow dims in and out across his obsidian shaded body; Eye dimming to white finally. It was an improvement really, with his odd coloring but it seemed it was only due to his exhaustion. The door opens as the gate retracts, his footsteps slow and staggered as he lets go of him to shuffle towards a light source. Flipping it on, the yellow glow emits eerily across the broken surroundings, the tossed paperwork, the old, mold-ridden tapestries staring back at them both. A singular, dull and white eye looks up at them as he picks himself up with shaky legs.

"You can't be seriously keeping me in here? Or wait, is this your little bit of pride coming back? HAH! Lemme guess, you missed me and that's why you want me down here in your old shrine? Heh aw shucks Sixer, ya coulda asked instead of sicking your family on me!"

Ford swallows, images of his past sweeping past his vision as his chest tightens; hand gripping the wall before he responds curtly. Memories of his ritualistic worship, eyes closed with rose fog to the false flattering of the other as he let him pass through his mind "Not any of the sort, I didn't plan on you coming back, and I didn't want you to come back. You're delusional if you think I want you to be in the shack, or anywhere close to my old project." 

"Uh uh, OUR project, don't hog all the lovely glory." Ford stomps his foot, shaking his head to make his memories stop even as he retorts back harshly. "It doesn't matter, none of it did. All of it was a mistake, including you. I should have listened to the warnings."

Then it's a deal, from now until the end of time...

Just let me into your mind Stanford....

Please, call me... a friend...

Bill lets the other rant, it mattered little to him as his eye blinks a few times to take everything in; He feels detached to his own memories, or more importantly; knowledge. It's slow to click two and two together as he leans against one of the broken screens before he abruptly glares at Ford. "What did you do, I feel that spell on my back you six fingered nerd; What is this? Why can't I..." His words cut short as he refuses to reveal that side of his hand.

Ford snaps from his thoughts as he stares at the injured being, the area around his eye bulged and swollen despite the dark coloring; and his hands coated in dried blood. "Why can't you what? All I did was configure a spell and binding agent that would allow you to stop shifting between the planes, or, glitching out as it looked like." 

Bill shuts his sore eye and holds his legs stubbornly, shape bent forward to maul everything other. He couldn't float, he couldn't use his magic, and he had no access to his sight. The floodgates of his powers were closed shut just as quickly as he had felt them and now? He was quite literally a walking, talking, and very angry triangle. How could the other do this? Was it out of sheer spite, bah, he was the one who had gotten cold feet from the get-go. Bill is a trickster of the mind, a master chess player at work and yet the other couldn't see that? Called him a liar even! The nerve really, the only thing he had managed to lie about was the 'muse' bit but really; not many people would work with someone called a demon now would they? He can hear Ford walking back and forth with drawn-out mumbles of thought, trying to figure out what Bill meant; But it didn't matter. None of this did, as soon as he could scratch off this spell, he will have some sweet, and delicious party planning to do!

Up above is no better as Stan shouts and yells; only getting a phone call an hour later that silences his anger with worry. The kids would be arriving in three days, not a week as planned and the entire situations are quick to shift to dread. What is going to happen?

How are the twins going to take Bills return?


	6. Stress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: There may be some important little tidbits in this one! Or maybe not, who knows!
> 
> Silence,
> 
> There is only silence.

 

Was this really all there was to this?

Of course not, but being badgered by the demon throughout the entire night was seeming like the only thing left for this entire scenario. He ranted, for hours after picking himself back up and Ford could only ignore him as best as he was capable until morning. By the time the other became tired, Ford had long since passed out on the scattered paper infested desk in the basement's second floor. Bill had also fallen asleep, despite his disdain for it recently. By the time they both woke up, it is as if they clicked the restart button. The man is far from enthused but it mattered little as Bill stretched and rubbed his sore sides for a moment. Not to self, the demon muses; Don't sleep on the stupid floor again. Use the meatbag as a bed if necessary or steal his trench right off of his body for a nice bed to use. Ford seems to pick up on the malice but gives him a stern glare before checking the wounds on his leg from the night prior. The bite had been deep, sharp and serrated which led to a lot of damage now that he bothered to analysis the deepness of it. His pant leg had long since become matted, so of course as he goes to remove it the wound tears and the clotted blood seeps open once more. Hissing out a garbled groan, his eyes scrunch close before he hears that damned chuckle of the other.

"What are you laughing at you horrid demon?" The reply is sneered out venomously; which only gives Bill another chance to laugh at his stupidity.

His eye gleams with delight at the other's pain, waving his hand as he continues to stretch; a chortled purr oozing out. "Oh, y'know the usual. You being the same nerd just as thirty years ago. despite the grey hair and new tattoos, which I must say are a nice addition; You still haven't changed. You're still the self-assured, six-fingered goof as before. So scatterbrained even now! It's funny how dumb you can be Sixer! HA AHA AA!"

That did it, Ford makes his way over and yanks him off of the ground by his bow tie, the demon's eye blowing wide before he kicks at his chest stubbornly. "You have a right to talk," He curses, voice straining to remain cold and centered; "You're just the same annoyance of an all-knowing demon stuck in his own ego!"

"Self projecting, love it!" Quipped with another laugh, a few more kicks, and a glare the demon continues to mock him despite being in his grasp currently.

Self... Projecting? Nonsense! Ford grips tighter, the bow wrinkling under the stress before he drops him unceremoniously on the dirtied floor before turning his attention back to the wound that needs to be cleaned. "Hmph, as if I'd project on you. You have enough ego for the entire human race...." Muttering, Stanford grabs some fresh water from the canteen of his trench and pours it on the wound. Hissing, the sting from the water all but turns to a soothing chill as he pats the dry blood away with the nearest cloth he could snatch up. it is better than nothing he sighs to himself; making his way to the door.

"You can just stay in here Cipher but if you try to escape; You'll regret it." It isn't a threat but a promise, he wouldn't be taking it easy on the other anytime soon after all.

Bill glares, seething with anger as he runs towards the elevator only to be closed in and left alone. HOW DARE HE!?

Ford doesn't acknowledge the other as it lifts him up and leaves Bill alone... Not exactly the best idea but what else is there to do? Take him to the bathroom, in the shower? Even at the breakfast table to enjoy some coffee? That would be crazy! Well, practical, yes, but also very much crazy and obsessive on the task of keeping him under wraps. Bill isn't there to hear his thoughts as if he could anyway; but still. It annoys him that he is stuck down in the basement. Pounding on the door, he screams.

"LET ME OUT OF THIS PLACE NOW STANFORD FILBRICK PINES!" Screams mean nothing in deafening silence, however, as it gives no reply for him to work with other than a slight echo of his own voice. The pounding turns to pacing, and then to kick the nearest screen which only makes him groan in pain. Stupid meat sack, stupid basement! This is nowhere appropriate for a GOD! Glancing around, he takes note of how it had changed in here, no longer did he really see any true relics other than the older ones... So many memories tossed aside from a misunderstanding. Okay, well, maybe more than a misunderstanding but it was only because Ford couldn't see the BIG picture. When push came to shove, he wanted to keep to his precious morals, to his precious laws, and reasonable ways of thinking. As if that got anyone anywhere in this universe! Or any universe for that matter! Take Rick Sanchez for example, not that was a fella that could actually have a good time and throw the moral compass into the wind!

Too bad he had a family he concerned himself with.

Such a wise, and genius intellect going to waste over that sort of attachment. Oh well, that wasn't the time nor the place where he was and is now currently. Heaving a sigh, the demon walks over to the papers and decides to clean up, at least he can manage to make this pigsty his own with a sense of flare if he has to stay in it! It's all he can do, that, and plan. He isn't going to stay here like some pet or toy for the other to bully. No, he is going to find a way out of here and when he does? Oh ho ho ho! Better watch out Pines family! Never in his existence, since he became Bill had he ever been this humiliated and it only seems to continue on! Aggravating really. As he cleans, however, upstairs Ford finally gets a change of clothes to come across a surprise.

The twins are in the Shack.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

At first, Ford didn't greet them, letting them both drop their bags as he stays back in the sidelines; adjusting his mauve sweater collar. Mabel jumps practically and hugs Melody as she grins ear to ear; her braces finally gone much to her joy over it. Though she did miss painting them, even if she wasn't supposed to... Oops. She had braid these days it seems, one large braid that curls around her shoulder and drifted nearly to her stomach. It's darker as well, near reminiscent of his old hair color when he still had dark brown curls; It fit her really. Dipper had really come into his own shoes as well, especially this year as he drops his bag and adjusts the hat on his head. His own hair has turned a bit lighter, and it seems he has a... What did they call it again? Soul patch? The bit of scruff against his chin. Ah, whatever it was called, Dipper really had matured over the last four years and he is quick to note the changes every year. They were even taller!

"Grunkle Stan! Is that a mullet? Oh my gosh, you look so rad! Wait wait, do you wear it in a pony, I got the perfect scrunchy for you if you do! It's blue with glitter that changes color depending on the light! Really cool stuff." She pipes in near immediately as she lets go of Melody as the other smiles and waves then at Dipper.

"You both have the upstairs, sure we live here but it is still your Great Uncle's house." Melody is joined by Soos at that moment, his arm around her shoulders gently. "Yea dudes, you got your room all set up and ready already! Oh and there's been some stuff happening like, oh man, you wouldn't even believe. So the thing is, you remember that tri--"

Stan interjects at that point with a clearing of his throat as he notices Ford. "We'll talk later about that, let the kids get their stuff up in the room first alright? Don't ruin the mood already." Not exactly nice, but he didn't want the young twins already tense and worried over this bad scenario. At least, that's how Stanley saw it. Ford isn't on the same page however as he finally approaches and offers a small wave. "Mason, Mabel... It's good to see you both. Why don't you two set up, I have something to discuss with both of you."

"Oh no you don't Ford, this ain't somethin to just throw at them." It is near sneering as he replies, stepping closer defensively before Mabel coughs and raises her hand.

"Okay, okay," She begins, flipping the braid back. "What the heck is going on? You guys didn't adopt something secretly really cool did you and kept it as a surprise? Oh oh is it puppy sundaes?" Now exclaiming this in as she hops on the balls of her feet, Dipper sighs before nudging her to be quiet. Not exactly the time after all.

He steps up and pats Ford's shoulder before looking back at Stan. "Hey, it's okay, we can talk about it later. I gotta unpack my journal and all my equipment anyway. C'mon Mabel, hey don't put that there!" Mabel has ignored Dipper, of course, putting his new headset on the sing-a-long fish in the living room that Soos had added a year ago. It activated and blubbed the tune of 'Why not to Worry' by the childhood movie 'The Stray Dogs and a Lonely Cat Trick the Rich'. Not the best title, but it was a great movie! Mabel swore by it after all.

Dipper rubs his face before retrieving them only to see Mabel dart up with the bags before he even has a chance to retort. Typical ball of energy as always. She always was this way when it came to Gravity Falls. Back at home though? Not so much. Ford wants to interject, of course, but falls flat as Stan gives him a stern glare and a gruff noise of complaint. Perhaps later is best after all. With that, he heads back down and allows the kids to adjust.

"Ohhhhhh man I'm so excited!" Exclaims Mabel excitedly as Dipper finally enters the room with a sigh; noticing her flopping on the bed. "What do you think Grunkle Ford wanted to say anyway?"

Dipper gives a shrug, sitting down as he pulls his journal out. "Who knows, but by how Stan was acting? Probably bad news actually."

"Whaaat, no psssh. Maybe Stan is just grumpy today; Not enough Pitt Cola y'know?" Dipper can only shake his head in reply as he goes to work writing down his newest entry. As he writes, Mabel decorates. A nice duo even now it seems.

Melody peeks in as they busy themselves, offering a small smile, hand on her stomach before she heads down drumming idly to keep her fingers busy. "So Mr.Pines, about yesterday... I know it's going to be hard to adjust, but it might be easier to keep an eye on you know what, instead of shoving him away? Just seems like the good option maybe?"

Stan glances over at her of course but says nothing before he walks out to the front porch. It's not as if he is meaning to be this grouchy but dammit, DAMMIT! That demon has been nothing but trouble for his entire family. After learning about the incident at the Sock Puppet show of Mabel's, he had a bad taste in his mouth regarding the other. As if driving his brother to insanity wasn't enough, he had to do that as well! Before they even got rid of the journals, Stan had noticed the note as well straight from Bill himself. That bastard wanted to kill Dipper and Mabel both as if that wasn't enough reason to want to break him into a million pieces! Ruffling his hair, he sits on the couch on the porch and ponders over everything.

If he is going to take this on, then he needs support right? Not like Stan is much of a support but he could try. Despite how much hatred he felt regarding Bill, Ford seemed utterly focused on evening things out either on his own or with the family. Memories flicker how he used to bicker with Ford, that night he was kicked out and he sighs. He didn't want to lose his brother again over something like this. He would just have to swallow the bullet on this one and take it for the team.

As he ponders on the porch, the rest of the family begin to settle in completely. Melody and Soos prepare lunch for everyone, and Ford is once more face to face with Bill.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Bill had long since cleaned the entire area, making a small cot out of the spare covers that once covered up his lovely tapestries. Ford blinks and glances around, eyes wide with surprise before he notices Bill sitting with his eye closed. Is he meditating? Taking a step closer, the demon shoots him a glare immediately before turning around with a huff. Oh, guess he wasn't meditating after all. Or was, and Ford ruined it. Sucking in a breath, Ford approaches and leans down as he gets face to well, back to Bill.

"You cleaned this place up pretty nicely... Huh. Alright, look Bill..." He begins with this but is quickly shot down with another glare and a huff from the other. "Stuff it, Pines, I get it. I'm now your prized little pet, right? Going to be stuck in here until you die? HAH! I'll dance on your grave once your dead! I'll--"

Ford snatches him up and glares in his face, knuckles white in frustration. "Will you just shut up and LISTEN!? You aren't a pet, and you're not going to stay down here exactly. We're going to head back up, Dipper and Mabel are here and-"

Bill's eye lights up as he seems to practically grin with eagerness. "HAH, MY OLD PUPPET PINE TREE! And Shooting Star? Oh, this is going to be a good old fashion reunion! Well, what are you waiting for? Carry me up there!"

Ford snorts, rolling his eyes before he loosens his grip and keeps him in his arms. "You're lucky I don't want to move slow for you can keep up."

With no more wasting time, he heads back up the elevator with Bill in his arms; heart pounding against his chest.

As soon as he left past the vending machine, he is greeted by Soos who was consequently getting a bag of chips; startled and practically falling over.

"Oh hey uh Mr. Pines dude, woah hey Will!" Soos offers a kind smile before Bill grumbles and points at himself. "My name is Bill- B-I-L-L! Learn it Question Mark."

"Oh yeah? Huh, thought it was Will. I guess you could say the same for me then, it's Soos heh, not uh Question Mark. Not that I mind. So is he going to relax up here?" He is given a nod in return before Ford sets Bill on the ground as the demon brushes himself off.

"Yea yea, I'm going to just be all relaxed and love dovey and friendshippy with you all now. Because, you know, friendship is MAGIC. Ugh." Bill doesn't bother staying around, much to Ford's disapproval before he heads out to take a glance around the place. Sure, it seems like everyone is the same but Bill could already notice the differences. This was once a monument to his glory, especially his naughty little basement but apparently, that kingdom has fallen flat on its face. He could tell Stan is on the porch, the two teens in their room and Melody? Seems she is in the bathroom by the sound of her singing. Huffing out, the demon quickly makes his way out and slips past Stan, glancing around before he darts towards the brush. Like hell is he going to just stay here and be mocked or kicked around! Well, that was the plan anyway. As soon as Bill runs, he is met with Gompers and the entire shack can hear the blood-curdling screech afterword.

"LET GO, LET GO, LET GO YOU HORRID PATHETIC EXCUSE OF A FAILED NATURE SPIRIT GONE CHEW CRAZY! LET GOOO!!!!" Bill shrills but it's no use as his bow tie and nearly his hat is munched on. Ford runs out, darting pass Stan before he blinks and covers his face. Oh joy, Gompers ate his bow. Bill is furious at this point, holding a scrap of it left before he attacks and bites the hungry goat on the neck as he kicks and claws into him. Ford quickly yanks Bill off as he screeches and kicks; beyond upset as his blackened form shifts to a dark crimson with his anger. Ford struggles to keep a grip on him as Bill continues to writhe and scream, his anger peaking finally to what Ford wants to call a supernova of a tantrum.

The yelling gets everyone's attention, of course, as Dipper and Mabel run outside and Stan stands by to block them.

"HOW DARE YOU, LET ME GO STANFORD- I'M GOING TO TEAR HIM ALIVE!" Dipper's eyes blow wide, recognizing the voice as Mabel swallows with a pit of guilt and memories hitting her. Melody is the next to follow everyone out as she pulls on her ponytail, noticing the clear distress and not tantrum. Whatever the goat ate, it must have been special to Bill. Bill tires out after being restrained for so long, huffing out as he turns black once more; a shade lighter than what he was yesterday. Ford doesn't notice right now, turning as he drops Bill in surprise. Oh no, he was hoping that they didn't hear. He practically begged for it internally but alas; his hopes were squashed as they stare.

"Is that-- IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS!?" Dipper is the first to pipe out, not daring to step closer before Mabel practically leaps to get closer to Bill. "Oh wow... It is, he is I mean. Bill?" She blinks, looking him over before noticing the bow tie is missing as she glances back over to Gompers and covers her mouth. Gompers was clicking his hooves against the ground, snorting out an angry huff before trotting off, a piece of black fabric in his mouth still. Looks like Bill's teeth didn't make it past the fur by much but still. That isn't good.

With Bill on the ground and covering his front bricks, Mabel walks even closer before she offers her hand. "Hey uh, Bill, long time huh? Wow, anyways! Need some help up? Since Ford just up and dropped ya on your head--er, body- face thing?" Bill glares but takes her hand, standing up before he folds his arms, grumbling to himself.

"Okay please step back Mabel, Mason please give me a moment to explain. Stanley can most likely assist in that explanation." Hopefully anyway. However, hoping is not the best solution as Stan scratches at his face for a moment before glaring.

"Yea that's Bill, and he's back to cause trouble no doubt. He already was causing trouble with my health y'know." Not helping Stan, really, really not helping. Ford rubs his face as Bill finally looks up at him before nudging his leg to pick him up. Ford scrunches his face before shaking his head and continuing.

How does one even explain any of this? With logic of course. "Yes, Bill seemed to have been trapped in the confines of Stan's mind and the statue. Like a looping effect between both spots. When he came back, however, it must have corrupted his energy based form with the more physical one and so... Bill turn around if you would?"

Bill glares, raising his arms up before he huffs and kicks Ford's leg before walking back towards the brush. "I'm not some obedient little- HEY HEY PUT ME DOWN!" Mabel quickly scoops him up and stares at the mark, poking it before she flips him back over. He is too tired to attack at this point, but the glare says it all as it glints with a malicious red.

"Woah, you got this funky mark on you like a tattoo! It looks nice though, kind of like a rainbow color too." Bill scoffs, shoving at her. "Just let me go Shooting Star, I'm out of here. I don't need any of this! I don't care if he made it where I wasn't in that, whatever it was; I'm catching the first bus and I'm out of here. You'll all pay for this, it's your faults to begin with!"

Ford glares as Mabel continues to hold him. "Our fault? We're not the ones who started Weirdmaggedon, who tried anything and everything to destroy the universe!" Dipper nods, agreeing with him. "Not to mention you have done nothing but cause harm Bill; your defeat was better for everyone."

Bill disagrees of course as they all become tense; only growing to silence after a long drawn glare from the other. Melody continues to mess with her hair before she walks over and taps Mabel's shoulder, piping in.

"Hey, what exactly happened?" Mabel arches a brow, adding on; "Yea, was it cause he ate your bow?"

Another moment of silence and Bill look at them both before replying carelessly; "What? No, why would I care about a stupid bow? No, it's because that stupid goat attacked me! Now will you put me down, I'd rather find a spot to sit at this point."

It was a lie, but it was one that made everyone simmer down before walking back into the shack. She sets Bill down, leaving him with Ford as she taps her chin. Something about that statement just wasn't right and as a creator? Oh, she is going to fix it! A mission in her brain, she goes past Dipper and darts up the stairs; beginning to plan and plot to herself. Dipper glances back, warily watching them both before he sits with Stan and they both start to discuss what had just happened.

"Bill... Did you provoke Gompers?" Might as well get to the bottom of it really, right? The demon replies with an offended gaze, looking up at him before tapping his foot on the ground.

"No, I was going to get out of this Hick town and that stupid goat attacked me for my bow- He nearly took a piece of my hat!" Ford can't help but chuckle at the thought of it before he notices how the other is covering himself awkwardly. Perhaps the bow was similar to an actual outfit, or perhaps it had been sentimental; Regardless the other is going to have to manage on this one.

The rest of the day goes just about as smoothly as tar with shattered glass throughout it, slow and prickly with tension. By the time dinner runs around the corner, Bill is exhausted after having to work everywhere instead of float. He keeps to himself by this time, until the smell of food makes him cringe with a grumble. His stomach rumbles and soon he blinks in surprise. He was, no, is a being of pure energy! He shouldn't be hungry! Hands raise to cover his eye as he slumps on the couch he has managed to wiggle his way onto as the food continues to waft through the air. He doesn't say anything, there is no need to. He must just be delirious, he didn't require consumption of calories and nutrition to sustain himself... Well, he didn't when he was in the Mindscape and Nightmare Realm but without his powers? Would he have to eat, sleep, and god knows what else to keep going again? The thought brings back unpleasant memories that are quickly swallowed down.

Flat minds in a flat world, no need to bother with those locked up memories. Wait, why could he even remember them anyway? Sure, he knows he burned down the dimension, he was the trigger and the bullet all at once when it came down to his world crumbling into a pillar of chaos and ash. But, why did the food remind him of something... more personal? His eye closes, an image of a dinner table, a lined being, a triangle... No, three triangles... No! He groans before being tapped out of his thoughts by the energetic bean Mabel; His heels bouncing on the ground.

"Billlllll, I think I have something you might like~!" She chirps happily before slapping something against his chest as he winces with a snarl. "WHAT'S THE MEANING OF SLAPP--W-what's.. this?" His eye then trails down to only widen with astonishment. Attached to his bricks is a red, satin bow with a cute amber gem in the middle; sparkling and well designed. He grows quiet, staring at it before he finally speaks, whispering it.

"...Why?"

She shrugs, plopping on the couch next to him before munching on the last little chip in her hoodie. "Because you looked naked without a bow! I know it's not black, but it looks really good on you so I thought, y'know maybe you'd like it? I could try a different color, maybe blue?"

"No, no... I uh," He rolls his eye, patting the bow. "it's fine, red is like the Red Carpet, celebrity colors. It looks good, so..."

"You're welcome!" She peeps, hopping away before he grabs her arm. "I didn't even say thank you, you silly girl. But yea thanks, you really know how to make things huh? Might come to you if that goat comes after my hat next."

She giggles, patting the top of his shape before walking off, humming happily to herself. Bill didn't respond after that, settling back before long. He is hungry, shouldn't be but he is and that in itself is frustrating. But at least he could take his mind off of it with this little trinket gift of hers. It was over frilly, bigger than his other one but... It was nice. He's still angry about the incident but at least he isn't naked anymore right? You win some, you lose some he muses. Another hour passes and everyone starts to get ready for bed, the time flying far faster than he admitted that he wishes it to. Ford notices the noises coming from Bill, a growling No, a gurgling noise and he chuckles. Oh, looks like he might actually be hungry. That would be good to write down. Deciding to pick up a plate, he walks offer and sets it next to him before walking away without a word. The other could enjoy his meal by himself to settle down. The elder did, however, notice the new bow and nods; Mabel must have made him a new one.

Bill glances at the food, about to protest before he sighs out. Okay, so he may have to eat and sleep. No big deal, by tomorrow he'll be himself and start to kick some plans into gear. Taking the drumstick, he takes a bite and makes a noise of approval before beginning to eat everything on the plate. Including the bones Burping out, he settles against the couch and shuts his eye; drowning out the worries of his own mind as it unravels from the stress...

\--------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey Billy, I got you something!" A voice chirps, distorted as a whisper.

Another voice chimes in, smaller, and younger. "Oh yea, what did ya get me huh? Another book? Lemme guess, a mystery one?"

"Haha pfft you wish, here close your eye!" There's shuffling in the darkness, before a gasp of surprise.

"A bow Celes? It's nice, a bit much don't you think?"

More shuffling.

"Well you always like to claim you're the suave one of the family, so put your money where your mouth is! Now if only you had a hat... I'll save up okay?"

"..Okay."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you all think, and I'm sorry for taking so long!


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